


The One He Loves

by Jemppu



Series: Honey Mushroom [39]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Art, Culmets - Freeform, Fanart, M/M, Tumblr, honey mushroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemppu/pseuds/Jemppu
Summary: Part of"Honey Mushroom"series of Culmets momentslisted here on tumblr.Hugh, as Paul blows off one of their evenings.With illustration, "Safe In Your Arms".
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets
Series: Honey Mushroom [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1080993
Kudos: 12





	The One He Loves

**Author's Note:**

> The series gets released quite out of order, as inspiration dictates, so I urge you to check out the [series list on tumblr](https://tinyurl.com/honeyshroom) for a better picture of the whole.

## 

## The One He Loves

Hugh’s shift for the day was finally over. He waved at his relieving officer, and stepped out of the sickbay. The corridors were already night lit and it always took a while for the eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting after a day in the harsh fluorescent lights.

He raised a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, letting out a little grunt, took few deliberately bouncy steps and stretched his back. He couldn’t wait to get his feet up after a day of standing around the sickbay. There hadn’t been any calls outside his “office” today, which made him feel like he had somewhat lost a day in there. A jog around the decks could really do some good, but right now he just wanted to get home, off of his uniform and relax. Tonight he was just going to sit back and enjoy a meal with his man.

It had been a while again since he had had a proper night off; no active on-call duty, nothing. Paul too had left early for his work today and indicated he would be having a free evening. Of course with Paul as the head of his department and working on his own specific research task, there wasn’t as much shifts as there were his own set times and restrictions of inspiration. And of course times, when cadet training required his supervision, which if Paul ever had any say on the matter were few and far between.

Hugh felt a slight buzz against his hip as his PADD indicated of an incoming message. Oh, crap, he thought, as a sudden sense of apprehension took him over: was it Paul now telling he would be staying late at work after all. This was unfortunately frequent, and while Hugh understood it usually meant Paul was in midst of an inspiration, he’d rather if Paul would remember this could be a rare free night for both, if he so chose. However, Hugh did appreciate if the engineer at least had a sense of mind to send a notice - something he had to have actually taught him over the many times, when Paul would be too lost in his own work, enough to forget that there were people outside his little bubble, who still appreciated his presence every once in a while.

He continued walking for a while before reluctantly checking the message: it wasn’t Paul. Instead, a scheduled message of details on some patient cases Hugh was to look over tomorrow. Call-backs around the ship - good, he couldn’t take another day of standing put.

Hugh realized just how much he was actually looking forward to spending some downtime with Paul tonight, and felt bit guilty for letting it affect himself like this. He slipped the device back into it’s case, admittedly relieved, and continued on along the corridor.

As the medical staff’s scheduling didn’t really synch with any of the other departments, there were often these kind of calm moments in between shifts, when the corridors would be quiet without the hassle of the crew commuting around the ship, between their residences and work stations. There were only occasional sounds of chatter echoing somewhere in the distant hallways, and walking along the quiet corridor Hugh found himself concentrating on the hum of the ship. He often did. He always felt certain personal familiarity and comfort in it, and it made him smile to himself now too.

He suddenly jolted back from his thoughts walking pass the mess hall, as he heard someone shout out his name. He stopped, took few steps back and peeked in the brightly lit space to see a medic colleague of his sitting at a table there with two buddies of theirs from the science department, waving at him from the back of the mostly empty mess hall. Hugh walked over to them, showing a slight look of surprise and curiosity on his face.

“You off-duty already? Up to something later?” the colleague asked, “we were thinking of hitting the gym. Are you free to join?”

“Thanks, that would really do good” Hugh smiled, “but it’s a home night for me tonight.”

“Oh, that so?” his colleague remarked with a slight twinkle in his eye, “one sometimes forgets. You’re a lucky guy to have that with you here”. “Best I can rely on is the company of these two sweaty gits here” he said jestingly motioning towards his buddies.

“Although, attempts to remedy that have been made towards Harrington from engineering, I hear” one of the science officers rebutted nonchalantly, taking a sip from his drink. “Futile attempts” the other specified snickering, “I’ve been a witness”.

“Doesn’t sound bad either” Hugh laughed shrugging his shoulders. “You guys have fun” he said patting on the table as he turned to walk away.

“Will do” the lot of them laughed. “Don’t over-extort yourself!” one of the science officers shouted after him.

The gall caught Hugh off guard and he let out an audible chortle. “You just worry about your own workout!” he shouted back laughing, in an attempt to brush off the remark, leaving the men banter amongst themselves.

* * *

Not far from the mess hall, the corridor got brighter again at the turbolift lounge. Even at an usually busy junction like this it remained relatively quiet at this hour. Only few people passing by, getting off the lifts.

The PADD buzzed again.

“Sorry, going to be stuck at work. Don’t wait on me.”

Hugh’s eyes rolled back as he read the message. He closed the PADD in his hand and hailed a lift.

“Goddammit, Paul” was the very first thought that popped into his mind. What the heck was he supposed to do with that?

Few familiar passers by greeted Hugh - he acknowlegded them with a nod and smile and continued tapping his fingers against the PADD anxiously. The wait seemed longer than usual.

Finally a relieving swoosh as the lift door opened. Hugh stepped in and tapped his PADD open again.

“Seriously? Lorca breathing down your neck again?” he typed quickly and hit send.

The lift ride wasn’t long, but Hugh’s mind had immediately started juggling options for the evening. Maybe he should just go change and head back to join his buddies to the gym after all. Or kick back at home as intended and be present in case Paul would arrive early enough to salvage some of the evening. The lift arrived at destination on the officers’ quarters deck and Hugh got off.

The PADD screen lit up again, “No” read the answer, shortly followed by “just a good flow on. Could be crucial.”

So that was that then, again. There wasn’t really anything Hugh could do. Demanding Paul to abandon his work or ignore his inspiration over Hugh would’ve been highly selfish - the man had whole Starfleet’s expectations for his research on him. There was no room for sentimentalities over personal relations there, so arguing about Paul’s 'scheduling issues’ was always going to be a useless effort.

The second Hugh had gotten across the treshold and kicked his boots off he knew he wasn’t getting out again.

After changing, freshening up and having a bite, Hugh decided that, if he wasn’t to get the night he had hoped for with Paul, he would have something he rarely got to enjoy when Paul **was** around.

“Computer, play Kasseelian opera” Hugh ordered, opened up a new tab on his PADD and slumped down on the couch determined to empty his brain completely by spending the evening reading gossips and sappy romance literature.

He was however disrupted by continued silence. “Computer, play Kasseelian opera”, he repeated. Nothing.

“Computer, acknowledge.”  
“Yes.” came immediate response.  
“Computer, play Kasseelian opera.”  
“Sorry, unable to comply.”

This was unusual.

“Computer, play music” Hugh reiterated hoping a more general command could yield results.

“Playing music.” the computer announced and the room filled with some 22nd century rendition of Maria Callas - hardly in par with the original even.

Now he had to do with this then? And just hope the system wouldn’t shuffle to something like Paul’s uncles cover band files? Damn it.

“Computer, access residential files: Culber-Stamets: Kasseelian opera.”  
“Access denied.”

The evening just wasn’t going his way. He stood up, placed his PADD on the coffee table and walked over to the computer interface on the far corner of the room, thinking maybe accessing the files manually would be possible.

Indeed, few quick clicks and he had the files in front of him. So, the problem must’ve been on the voice controls. He clicked over to the voice control settings and found them locked. What the heck was going on?

“Last log-in: Stamets, Paul”.

Hugh let out a frustrated sigh and found the words “dammit, Paul” bubble up in his mind again.

He wasn’t going to message him and ask about this though. He knew how much Paul hated getting his work interrupted. Besides, in his mind Hugh was quite sure already what this was about: they had had arguments over the music being played in the residence on few occasions in the past - this must have been Paul’s way of ensuring the arias couldn’t be voice activated over a 'shouting match’. But this was low. Hugh felt disgustingly manipulated and didn’t want to believe Paul could be this childish. And why now, of all times? Boy, was this going to be discussed later.

He manually selected the opera files, hit play and walked back over to the couch to commence his self-lobotomization.

Hugh could feel his eyes closing and the PADD in his hand starting to get heavy.

“Computer, dim the lights.”

He dropped the device gently on the coffee table, stretched his arms and slumped further down on the couch, now laying across the full length of it.

“Computer, turn down the music.”

He let his eyes close and lay there on his side, listening to the sudden silence in the room. Then gradually started to pick up the hum again. The ship’s soft, familiar hum, he so loved for very private reasons.

The hum made Hugh’s mind wander to the starboard engineering, and to the lone desk at the corner of the dimly lit room. He could never stand the gloomy darkness pierced only by the menacing red glow in there, but now in his imagination he didn’t even notice it. His mind concentrated solely on the angelically glowing, pale engineer seated at the corner desk - and on how gracefully and effortlessly his hands flew across the control panels, expertly operating the systems. Hugh watched those fingers gently touching the surface of the panels, and imagined them dancing across his own skin with the same gentle caress and determination. Those hands knew each surface as well. Knew exactly which buttons to push, and were eager to explore new combinations. The hum always reminded him of this, of his man operating down there in the engineering, making the ship hum for him. As long as the comforting hum was there he could feel Paul’s presence anywhere in the ship, feel him near.

Hugh jolted awake to a slight swoosh from the door.

Light from the corridor flooded in as Paul stepped through the doorway, looking like he had just been caught trespassing, “I’m sorry” he said while carefully pulling off his boots, “were you sleeping?”

Hugh had no idea how long he had dozed off. He turned on his side on the couch, leaning his head on his hand, “I was listening you hum” he said with drowsiness in his voice.

Paul’s brows furrowed in confusion, “What?” he uttered with a little chuckle under his breath, while still busy 'unwrapping’ himself. He turned around to unzip his uniform jacket, and threw it aside on the bed next to him, then slunked over by the couch while loosening up his trousers, “there’s room here for one more?” he asked leaning over the couch.

Hugh smiled with sleepy eyes and straightened himself up enough to give room, leaning his head on the arm rest and placing a pillow on his lap, inviting the weary engineer to lay on it. Paul let out a relieved sigh positioning himself there between Hugh’s legs, and hugged the pillow burying his face in it.

Hugh indistinctively put his hand on Paul’s neck, gently stroking it. Enjoying the softness of his hair next to the roughness of the slight, near invisible stubble on his cheek.

Paul lifted his gaze to meet Hugh’s warm smile, rested his chin on the pillow and leaned his head against Hugh’s touch.

“You know I don’t actually 'make the ship hum’ myself, don’t you” he said with a slightly dismissive playfulness to his voice, “I have a whole team for that”.

Hugh smiled slightly and raised his brows in response, his hand still resting on Paul’s neck, now pinching the man’s ear softly. He wasn’t going to let pedantics ruin the comfort his imagination provided. He could feel Paul’s fingers playing with his shirt underneath the pillow. The touch felt divine against his stomach. Hugh just wanted to give in and encourage the engineer to explore him all over. But couldn’t shake the thing still on his mind.

“Did you do something with the computer playback commands?” Hugh asked with a slight tired heaviness to his voice. “I couldn’t get it to play “that aria”“ he added making slight air quote with his free hand.

He wouldn’t even have the energy to concentrate on a conversation right now, but was still feeling hurt and needed to know how was it that he was being blocked access to his own files in his own home, on his own time.

A slight look of guilt run across Paul’s face. Oh, rats, Hugh thought to himself - so, there **was** something to this. He really didn’t want to get into an argument tonight, but suddenly didn’t feel like heading down this path they were headed either. Hugh took his hand off of Paul’s neck and shifted his posture upwards, enough to make Paul jolt uncomfortably on his lap. The fingers under the pillow stopped their exploration.

Paul picked himself up to rest on his elbows "Computer, play Kasseelian opera.” he ordered.

Hugh rolled his eyes, “You don’t think I tried? That doesn’t work, Paul”, he sighed, making the discomfort on Paul’s face increase visibly.

Paul run his palms across his own face, then composed himself and tried again, “Computer, play the aria he loves.”

“Playing Kasseelian opera” the computer announced, and the room filled with the familiar serene music.

“Sorry about that.” Paul said, his brows now arching to that 'kicked puppy’ look he always adopted when stressed or upset, “I woke up last night, when you left for your shift, and couldn’t get back to sleep” he explained gesturing wildly with his hands as he always did, when not in full control of his emotions, “it must’ve been something I tinkered with.”

Hugh didn’t know how to respond. He looked down to the engineer on his lap, who was again busy carefully fiddling with the edge of Hugh’s shirt, still resting on his elbows, hanging his head slightly, clearly trying to avoid eye contact.

Hugh’s mind pictured Paul, unable to sleep, trying to find something to comfort himself while alone in the room. He realized there were times when he himself wasn’t present when Paul would’ve needed or wanted him there. And this had been his go to? Not his calculations or research notes. The importance of being able to speak and have the computer understand the words “play the aria he loves” had at that moment seemed the top most priority in his mind?

Clearly there were still countless things to discover about the inner workings of this beautiful mind. Things he’d be fool to try and determine himself, like he just had.

A light pat on his stomach jogged Hugh back to the moment. “You know, I’m going to fix that right away”, Paul said sitting up, letting the pillow between them drop to the floor.

“No, Honey.” Hugh uttered slightly confused, still trying to gather his thoughts, “Leave it.”

“Oh?” Paul said, stopping himself halfway through getting up, “it’ll be a quick fix.”

Hugh put his hand on Paul’s thigh and gently guided him to sit back down, “it’s fine”. “Computer, turn down the music.” Hugh commanded.

“You sure?” Paul still insisted, now almost annoyingly apologetically.

“Of course I’m not sure” Hugh said letting the mild frustration sound through his voice, “trying to figure out what the heck goes on in that head of yours”. “But you do need to fix that settings locking though” he added, “later.”

“It’s locked?” Paul uttered confused, “that wasn’t deliberate…”. You could almost hear gears in his head start turning, trying to figure things out as he sat there on the edge of the couch, furrowing his brows again, “must’ve done that out of habit - should never leave your work unlocked”, he concluded.

Hugh chuckled, “You are forgiven, Mushroom.”

Paul flashed an amused smile and leaned in to give a small kiss on Hugh’s lips, then slumped back down on him, resting his head on his chest and this time boldly slipping his hands up underneath Hugh’s shirt, tickling his sides slightly as he settled them there holding on to Hugh’s body.

Hugh’s mind finally gave up and relaxed, shifting it’s full concentration now on the comforting weight of Paul on top of him.

Hugh closed his eyes and took in that oddly specific mixture of cold metallic and earthly forest green scent Paul always had on him, thanks to 'bathing’ in those space spores daily. He listened Paul breathing, and could hear him thrift in and out of consciousness, clearly trying hard not to fall asleep on him.

Hugh chuckled in his mind, his fingers playing with the adorable little swirl of hair covering the slightly thinning spot at the back of Paul’s head, “So, you listened to it then? Alone? Voluntarily?”

He felt Paul perk up and heard a muffled voice somewhere down below, “Fuck no.” He could feel Paul’s smile against his chest, “not anymore that I had to, to test the system out” Paul uttered with familiar frankness as he pulled his arms out under Hugh’s shirt, crossed them across his chest and rose to rest his head on them, staring straight at Hugh from underneath those hypnotic white lashes.

Hugh flinched a bit as he felt the hard spore drive ports on the engineer’s forearms press against his chest, but relaxed quickly as Paul continued on, explaining in his usual excited manner “In fact, hearing the aria while testing out the system, I set up this secondary command…” Hugh quickly interrupted, wrapping his arms gently around the engineer.

“Shut up, Stamets” he let out with a firm stare, followed by a slight roll of eyes, “don’t ruin it.”

A mild confusion shot across Paul’s face, quickly turning into a jesting smirk. Luckily, what the man lacked in words or social decorum, you could always read from that honest face, and right now the playful smile and the respectfully raised eyebrows were saying “good for you, Hugh”.

It was a relief to know it was still there. The mutual respect. That they could always be honest with each other, no matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts on the work posted along with the illustration on [**tumblr**](https://jmalkki.tumblr.com/post/170465164389/the-one-he-loves).
> 
> _Likes, shares, comments and what have you, all appreciated on:_   
>  _[**tumblr**](http://jmalkki.tumblr.com/) | [**twitter**](https://twitter.com/Jemppu) | [**instagram**](https://www.instagram.com/jeminamalkki/) | [**DeviantArt**](https://www.deviantart.com/jemppu)_


End file.
